


you twist to fit the mold that I am in

by oh_la_fraise



Series: that's not what a triple threat is steve [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, sam is bucky's hero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 08:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4739621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_la_fraise/pseuds/oh_la_fraise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He enters to find James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, world's most deadly assassin, standing on the bathroom counter, frantically spraying a Lavender Garden can of Airwick.</p><p>Bucky looks at him a little wildly, toothpaste smeared on his mouth.  The tap is still running.  “Oh, thank god.  You're here.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you twist to fit the mold that I am in

**Author's Note:**

> I can't sleep, so have a 3AM Sam/Bucky/(lazy Steve asleep on the couch) super short fic I was planning for Sam's birthday celebration coming up. Title is from Sunday Morning by Maroon 5.
> 
> (Um, references to bugs if that bothers anyone.)

Sam burrows further into Steve's chest, enjoying the post-coital bliss of “thank god we're alive” post-mission sex. Bucky's in the bathroom getting ready for bed—having a single, tiny bathroom for three grown men was not the brightest idea in retrospect. They'd found out the hard way in when they all tried to fit in the tub at the same time. They sit in contented silence, Steve tracing his thumb across Sam's temple, until there's an unearthly _shriek_ from the bathroom, followed by a strangled cry of “Steve! Sam! Come here!”

Sam jumps up immediately, already looking for his gun, but Steve is still slumped on the couch. His ribs are bruised, so Sam understands him not moving super quickly, but he's not moving at all. Which, if Bucky—or, and it gives him a thrill of warmth at the thought, Sam himself—might be in trouble, it's the most un-Steve like response he's ever seen. “What're you doing, man? C'mon!”

Steve sighs, still not moving. “Did you know, that when Bucky and I were living together before the war, that he would always make me the kill the cockroaches in our apartment?”

“Um,” Sam replies, because Bucky is still yelling for them and Steve is talking about the good ol' days.  


“Yeah. I always thought he was humoring me—making the little guy feel tough and all—until the first time we shared a tent together in Germany. There was a little beetle in our tent—no bigger than a penny—but Bucky refused to go inside until I'd gotten rid of it and checked our bed rolls.”

Sam glances down the hall; there's no sign of Bucky fighting for his life against some unseen enemey. “So you're saying Bucky's freaking out. . .because of a bug?"

“I know that scream.” Steve almost sounds relieved, and Sam can't blame him; they're both too intimately familiar with Bucky's other, less pleasant screams. Steve starts to get up, but he's still wincing, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Sam waves him off. “I'll get it, man. Two tours with camel spiders; creepy crawlies don't phase me much anymore.”

He heads towards the bathroom, and the closer he gets the more he begins to smell something floral and oddly chemical. By the time he gets to the door, he's practically gagging with it and concerned again that something's generally wrong. Hearing Bucky yelling “fuck, fuck, _oh fuck”_ isn't helping any.

He enters to find James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, world's most deadly assassin, standing on the bathroom counter, frantically spraying a Lavender Garden can of Airwick.

Bucky looks at him a little wildly, toothpaste smeared on his mouth. The tap is still running. “Oh, thank god. You're here.”

Sam turns off the water and looks at where his boyfriend has aimed his aerosol assault at. It's one of those house centipedes; a little creepy, sure, but harmless. It gives a feeble twitch, drowning in chemical air freshener. “I think you got it, bud.”

“It's still moving.”

He sighs, stepping over it to grab a piece of toilet paper. He nearly falls and busts his ass in the puddle of oil from the air freshener. He grabs the centipede, still thrashing in its death throes, and Bucky whimpers. The bug quickly gets flushed down the toilet, and he tosses a towel over the puddle in the floor until they clean it in the morning. He holds out a hand to Bucky. “You ready to come down now, princess?”

Bucky takes it, hopping down gracefully. He's calmer now that the bug is gone. “My hero. I, uh, guess Steve told you I don't like bugs so much? I turned around to close the shower curtain and there it was.”

Sam puffs out his chest, kissing Bucky on the cheek. “Anything for you, babe,” he says, only half kidding.

Bucky looks down, not meeting Sam's eyes. “Hydra—they never killed the bugs.” He says quietly.

 _Oh._ Hydra probably didn't care if Bucky was strapped down and had bugs crawling over him either.

“Well, we can call an exterminator tomorrow; that'll keep 'em from even getting in here in the first place.”

Bucky finally looks back up at him. “Thanks, Sam.” They stare at each other dopily before Steve yells “guys?”

“Coming!” Sam shouts. Bucky sighs. “I guess I should finish brushing my teeth, now.”

“Yeah, probably. Your breath _is_ pretty rank.”

Bucky shoves him playfully. “Jackass. It's only that way because I blew you earlier.” Sam steps back out into the hallway, but he pauses when he sees Bucky glancing around nervously. It's not hard to figure out why; Bucky said the bug startled him earlier. He steps back inside, sliding up to Bucky's back and circling his waist, hooking his head on his shoulder as Bucky begins to brush his teeth. Bucky rolls his eyes, seeing right through the gesture, but he doesn't say anything about it, which is how Sam knows he's made the right call in staying. It's not like it's a hardship, anyway.

He'll kill all the bugs in the world if it makes Bucky happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on [Tumblr](http://ohlafraise.tumblr.com/)! You can reblog this post [here.](http://ohlafraise.tumblr.com/post/128465430490/you-twist-to-fit-the-mold-that-i-am-in)


End file.
